Control a post apocalypt.., p.1
Control: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller, page 1
Also by Saul Tanpepper
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Recode: T.G.C.A. (The Grayson Cole Affair)
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Bunker 12
Contain (Book 1)
Condemn
Shelter in Place (A Standalone Short Story)
Control: The Post-Apocalyptic Thriller
INSOMNIA: Paranormal Tales, Science Fiction, and Paranormal
A Thing for Zombies
Jessie's Game (a GAMELAND novel)
Signs of Life
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND
Deep Into the Game: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 1) (Volume 1)
Failsafe: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 2) (Volume 2)
Deadman's Switch: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 3) (Volume 3)
Prometheus Wept: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 5) (Volume 5)
Kingdom of Players: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 6) (Volume 6)
Tag, You're Dead: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 7) (Volume 7)
Jacker's Code: S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episode 8) (Volume 8)
Infected: Hacked Files from the GAMELAND Archive
Jessie's Game Box Set (Signs of Life + Dead Reckoning)
Gameland: Season One Omnibus
A Dark and Sure Descent (Being a True Account of the Long Island Outbreak)
Dead Reckoning (Jessie's Game Book 2)
Golgotha
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND: Season Two Omnibus (Episodes 9-11)
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND Season One
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episodes 1 + 2: Deep Into the Game + Failsafe)
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episodes 3 + 4: Deadman's Switch + Sunder the Hollow Ones)
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episodes 5 + 6: Prometheus Wept + Kingdom of Players)
S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND (Episodes 7 + 8: Tag, You're Dead + Jacker's Code
The Flense
China (an International Technothriller)
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The International Technothriller (A 12-part serial)
The Flense - 1
The Flense - 2
The Flense - 3
The Flense - 4
The Flense - 5
The Flense - 6
The Flense - 7
The Flense - 8
The Flense - 9
Standalone
Velveteen
The Green Gyre
Get the F**k to Work
The Last Zookeeper
Flawless (a Claire Fontaine novella)
Insomnia: Paranormal Tales, Science Fiction, and Horror
Mr. November
Nocturne
Occupied
Open Wide
Outsourced
Promises and Sacrifices (Two Terrifying Tales, Two Lost Souls)
Raise the Dead
Reached in Error
Shorting the Undead & Other Horrors: a Menagerie of Macabre Mini-Fiction
The Grin
The Headhunter
The Object of Her Obsession
The Scenario Egg
They Dreamed of Poppies
Leviathan
Watch for more at Saul Tanpepper’s site.
CONTENTS
CONTROL
BUNKER 12 Series, Book 3
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Copyright Notice
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Tanpepper Tidings Newsletter
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‡ ‡ ‡
CONTROL
a BUNKER 12 novel
by Saul Tanpepper
© 2017
All rights reserved (full notice)
authorsaultanpepper@gmail.com
(rv.170113)
wraith /rāTH/ (n)
1. a ghost or ghostlike image of someone, especially one seen shortly before or after death.
2. an individual infected with, or carrying, the Flense.
flense /flens/
(v) to slice or strip away the skin and fat from a carcass.
(n) a highly contagious disease, spread by touch, capable of stripping away an individual's life essence.
Finn peeled open his eyes and squinted through the dusty glare on the windshield. There were more trees here, which meant they were getting close to the compound.
The front end of the truck dropped into a deep rut, jolting him as he turned to wipe away the grit on his face, and his cheek slammed into his shoulder. A grunt of pain rose from his parched throat, hit the rag stuffed inside his mouth, and went no further.
What's another bruise? he thought crossly. Just one more to add to all the rest.
His neck was stiff, and his head felt like it was covered in sheet metal that a jackhammer was trying to punch holes into. Moving any part of him at all sent crackles of pain down his spine and into his legs. Yet he forced his head around and blinked away the blurriness until the figure behind the steering wheel sharpened into focus.
Seth Abramson didn't turn at the sound of Finn's cough. He gave no indication he even knew Finn was awake. He kept his eyes glued to the road ahead, his head and shoulders hunched forward in intense concentration. The claws of his fingers endlessly curled and uncurled around the steering wheel.
They passed over an especially rough patch of road, and the truck rattled so violently that Finn thought it would shake itself apart.
Bastard must be aiming for the potholes.
An alarming rattle had developed somewhere in the truck's undercarriage. It came and went without rhyme or reason, like a metaphor of his own precarious existence.
He grunted again, trying to catch the man's attention. When that failed, he pulled his hands up, forgetting for the moment they were bound. The rope securing his wrists and ankles was cruelly short, and the ache in his back flared, threatening to completely unravel his frayed nerves. Another muffled plaint rose in his throat; this one made it past the gag.
But still, Seth ignored him.
A few choice words came to Finn's mind. He turned back to the window at his side and tried to calm himself down.
The trees were mostly pines now, rather than the scraggly oak and desert scrub from earlier, and they were growing more densely up ahead. Their numbers would continue to increase with the ascent to Adrian's compound. First came the rise, then the broad forested plateau. Then, in the center of it, the remote fishing and hunting refuge the madman had turned into a sick and twisted playground of torture.
Almost there.
He could feel the seconds fleeing away. He tried to usher forth some hope that this latest twist of fate would somehow play out in his favor, that he would walk away from this alive and unscathed.
But all he could muster was an unshakable sense of dread. It spread over him, suffocating him with the hard truth of his situation. Adrian would never keep his word. Come nightfall, they would all be prisoners in his demented little game.
And all because of one selfish decision made by the man sitting beside him.
Finn flashed on the scene of the bodies scattered on the roadway that afternoon, Bix's among them. All the gunshot wounds and blood drying in the harsh sunlight. And he wondered why so many had to die. Why did there have to be so much killing all the time?
He hated that this was their new reality.
He imagined his brother saying how every life was precious, every individual a treasure.
Was Harper even still alive?
Focus, dammit!
He needed to keep his wits about him, but how was that even possible when such thoughts kept crowding in?
What would he look like now? How might he have changed over the past three years?
Focus!
Seth ground the gears as he downshifted, and the transmission coughed in protest, bucking them in their seats. From the back came a pair of startled cries, Bren and her mother sitting on the wooden benches in the bed of the truck. Finn wondered how they were doing and what they must be thinking. Did they feel betrayed by what Seth had done? Would they ever be able to forgive him for what he was doing now?
As before, Mister Abramson made no acknowledgment he'd heard the cries. He stared at the road ahead, shifting when the engine whine grew excessive. The only movement his eyes made were to the occasional check of the scribbled map impaled onto the dash with a bloodstained hunting knife. The markings Finn had made on the paper weren't very accurate, but they hadn't needed to be. The route was straightforward. There weren't that many passable roads this far north.
Finn glanced over and checked the gauges. The tank was low, the temperature high, once more nudging into the red.
Earlier, Seth had turned on the heater to draw hot air away from the radiator, and that helped stop the engine from overheating. But the dry blast from the vents left them both baking, searing the membranes inside Finn's nose and throat until he gagged against the cloth gag Seth had shoved into his mouth. His stomach rebelled. He feared he'd be sick, but he also doubted Seth would remove the rag.
He won't let me choke. He needs me alive. It's the only wa
And what was that? What exactly were the man's motivations anyway?
He hates you, hates that you're with Bren. He loves seeing you like this, tormented and terrified.
Enough to risk his own family for it?
At last Seth looked over, as if he'd sensed the loathing rolling off Finn, and out of the corner of his eye Finn thought he saw a grim smile creasing the corner of the man's mouth. Seth nodded once, then returned his attention to the front without saying a word.
They had entered the forest surrounding Adrian's compound. If Finn found any comfort from that, it was in knowing that the end was finally near, and it was too late to change anything now.
"Stop right there!"
Three men materialized from out of the shadows fifty feet ahead and spread out over the road, blocking their way forward. As a unit, they raised their military style rifles, braced the stocks against the hollows of their shoulders, and aimed at the windshield.
Two more men emerged from behind trees on either side. They quickly hopped onto the truck's running boards, rocking the cab slightly with their weight, and banged loudly onto the roof with the butts of their pistols.
"Stop the truck now," the man outside Finn's open window ordered. Finn recognized him as one of the men from Adrian's barn fights, one of the more fanatical participants loudly shouting for salvation, when what they all wanted was blood and violence. He also remembered the man was one of the first to flee in the chaos after Bix killed the infected killer their friend Nami had been turned into.
"Stop right now, before I put a bullet into your brain."
Seth braked to a stop about twenty feet from the men on the road. He looked over at Finn, but if he harbored any doubts about his decision, they were carefully masked.
Little late for that now anyway.
"Out of the truck!" shouted the man. He thrust the pistol past Finn's nose and aimed it at Seth's head. "No, not you, asshole! You stay right there behind the wheel. I mean the boy. I need to inspect the package."
"Where's Adrian?"
"Shut up!" The man tried Finn's door handle, but it wouldn't open.
"It's broken," Seth said. He was struggling to keep his voice calm and steady, but there was an unmistakable quiver in it now. "The latch is jammed. Got shot back there during the gunfight. Besides, he's all tied up. He can't move."
"I don't give a crap! I told him to get out!" He pulled futilely on the door, getting angrier by the moment.
"The deal was we exchange Finn for the brother. No one's going anywhere until I see him," Seth said. "He promised." He tilted his head down and to the right, redirecting the man's gaze to the gun pressed into Finn's side. "He wants this one alive. Think about how disappointed he'll be if you make me shoot him. Give me Harper and we leave."
"You might want to rethink that, shithead," the man standing beside Seth growled. His breath stunk so badly, even Finn could smell it from where he sat on the other side of the truck.
There was a shout from the back — Missus Abramson calling for Bren — and Finn's heart nearly stopped when he heard Adrian ordering her to shut up. The madman appeared below Seth's window dragging Bren by the arm, the sharp edge of a knife pressed against the tender skin of his girlfriend's throat. Rage flooded through him. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but he could barely move as it was.
Don't lose it! Stay calm.
"What I wanna know is, what kinda idiot drags his wife and kid to a prisoner exchange?" Adrian drawled. He wrenched Bren around, who squealed in panic. She tried to pry his meaty fist off her throat, but he was too strong. Her face was a pale moon in the gloom beneath the forest canopy, her eyes wide with terror. "Y'all are stupid to bring them here."
"I couldn't just leave them behind. Besides, you promised if I did what you said, you wouldn't hurt us. Well, here he is. I brought him just like you wanted. Now give us Harper and we'll be gone before—"
"I said both boys. I only see one."
"You said Bix was optional. You said you'd be happy with him dead or alive. Well, he's dead. And you can blame your men for it."
"My men?"
"There was a lot of gunfire when the boys ambushed us. Your men were shooting wildly. You had to expect—"
"Liar!" Bren spat at her father. She tried to lunge, but couldn't break free. "You shot him! You killed him! You would have killed them all if you could!"
Adrian raised his eyebrows at Seth.
"Does it matter who did the actual shooting?" Seth said. "The boy's dead either way."
Adrian coughed. "It makes a difference, because y'all had no right to take his life. He owed me! The deal was—"
"It was necessary. I would never have been able to get away with Finn otherwise."
"Yer lyin."
"Look, your men underestimated those two boys—you underestimated them. And now your men are all dead because of their mistake. I wasn't going to take the same chance."
Adrian mulled this over for a moment.
"Finn's the one you really want anyway."
"Y'all shoulda brought the little brat's body, then."
"I left it for the vultures to pick over," Seth spat. "Him and all the others. He deserved it, for all the trouble he's caused me."
"You bastard," Bren shrieked at her father. She tried once more to break out of Adrian's grip. "How could you? I hate you!"
"I did it for you!" he shouted back, loud enough that it startled the man standing beside him, causing him to fall off the step and onto the road. But rather than hopping up again, he backed away from the truck, swinging the rifle nervously around like he expected to be attacked.
The other men mirrored his actions.
Finn knew Seth had seen it, too, and they both knew it meant the woods weren't secure. The deadly creatures Finn had had a hand in liberating from inside the compound during his escape several days earlier hadn't all been captured or killed.
The same creatures that had killed Adrian's sister, Jennifer, and set the madman on this path of vengeance.
"Bren, listen to me, honey," Seth said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I did it for you and your mother, for your safety." He turned his attention back to Adrian. "Please, don't hurt them. Let her go. You said you were a man of your word."
Adrian didn't move. The hard look on his face neither acknowledged nor denied the claim.
The man standing beside Finn stepped down and circled around the front of the truck. "Sir, we shouldn't stay here too long. It's starting to get dark. We should at least move inside the perimeter."
At last Adrian nodded.
"Please, just give us Harper, and we'll—"
Adrian signaled his man with a nod, who stepped over, wrenched the driver's door open, and yanked Seth out. A blast filled the cab, popping Finn's eardrums. He blinked in shock, as the burnt gunpowder pinched his nostrils. The pistol tumbled from Seth's grip and landed in the space beneath the steering wheel, a wisp of smoke curling up from the barrel.
Finn looked down at his side, expecting to see blood pouring out of him. But there was no wound. The slug had punched a hole into the seat beside him, just inches from his leg.
Seth fell in a heap on the roadway, yelling in surprise. Bren screamed and tried once again to break free of Adrian's grip, but whether she meant to help her father or attack him herself wasn't clear. One of the men stepped between them and pointed his rifle at Bren. He pushed the man down with his foot and ordered him not to move as he frisked him for more weapons.
"I suspect you ain't told me the whole truth," Adrian calmly said. "So, we're gonna have to have ourselves a little chat."
"I've told you everything!"
"Jackson, you and Frasier take the women to the house. Search them. Y'all know what to look for."
He shoved Bren toward the man standing in front, then gestured to another. "Pierce, y'all get in and drive."
"Where?"
"Take the boy to the barn. Check him over good when y'all get there, then tie him up, just like we discussed. Tear the truck apart."
He glanced down one last time, signaling for Seth to stand up. "I am a man of my word," he said. "Once I get what I need, y'all will be free to go."
